


Loaded Gun

by chimneysmoke (recension)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Murder, Torture, serial killer au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 08:09:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/recension/pseuds/chimneysmoke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Bellatrix/Narcissa; muggle serial killer duo au, femme fatales, always on the run, diamonds on my wrist, whiskey on my tongue"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loaded Gun

**Author's Note:**

> For the _Welcome Home_ Harry Potter LJ ficathon.
> 
> Original prompt: "Bellatrix/Narcissa; muggle serial killer duo au, femme fatales, always on the run, diamonds on my wrist, whiskey on my tongue"

Narcissa scratches at her temple with the butt of the gun.

"Bella, darling, pull the other one 'round," she uses the front end of the gun to point vaguely at the man in the chair, waving it around carelessly, and Bellatrix crosses the room, turning the chair with a grunt of effort and an awful squeak of wood on concrete.

Narcissa stares from one to the other, the man and the boy. Thomas and Harry, their IDs said. Father and son. Scum, the both of them.

"Can I kill the boy?" Bella asks, rocking on the balls of her feet, pushing unkempt ebony curls from her face. "Cissa, please, can I kill the boy?" She's gone to her table and picked up a scalpel. Normally Narcissa only lets Bella dissect the bodies after they've stopped housing life but Bella has been surprisingly well-behaved these past few weeks.

"I don't want to be cleaning up buckets of blood. Clean cuts, no arteries," Cissa warns her sister, looking as the boy's expression turns to horror, rocking desperately in his chair and shouting from beneath his gag for freedom.

Tom hasn't moved since they gagged him, but his eyes follow Narcissa wherever she walks. She steps towards him and unties his gag, dragging his chair across the floor so he can watch his son's torture.

"Sad isn't it, Tom? To lose someone so close to you," Narcissa purrs in his ear, running her fingers through his hair, gripping the scalp, wretching his head back, baring his neck. "His pain must be agony for you to endure."

"It's not so bad," Tom spits out, grunting as he licks his lips and she releases his head.

Narcissa sighs softly, wiping her hand of his hair grease on his cloth-covered shoulder, circling around him. Her boots click on the concrete and when she faces him she shrugs. 

"I thought that might be the case."

She'd recognized what he was the first time she saw him: a sociopath, like Bella. Not merely psychotic like her. Tom didn't care if they killed his son—and they likely would, Bella was digging deep like she'd find hidden treasure in the boy's flesh. Tom didn't seem care about much, really.

Which is how he'd killed Andromeda. Detachment. Curiosity. Evil.

"I want you to know you made a mistake killing a Black," Narcissa drawls, turning to Bellatrix and the boy. "Bella, darling, give the boy a break just for a moment. I want him to see this."

Bella pulled back from the boy then, spattered in his blood. Harry was shining with bright crimson and terrified, his voice hoarse as he kept crying out. His eyes were open in horror.

"Dad?" he shouts through the gag, muffled.

"It's all right, son," Tom tries to calm the boy and does a shit job of it. Bella begins to giggle and rock on her feet. What comes next is her favorite part.

Narcissa flicks her gaze back to Tom as he speaks. "No it's not," she tells him calmly, and raises the gun. She's a good shot, and Harry screams with renewed vigor through the gag.


End file.
